


Kon-El and the Great Kazoo Caper

by procrastinationfairy



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Kryptonian Biology, M/M, Tim Drake's hero name is Red Heron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27907576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinationfairy/pseuds/procrastinationfairy
Summary: Kon can’t escape the kazoo congestion. When all caped heroes and sidekicks have a kazoo in hand, surely something must be afoot. But is this cataclysm a conspiracy? Or is this conundrum constructed by Kon's imagination?
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	Kon-El and the Great Kazoo Caper

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who should have been working on schoolwork? Guess who thought of this title and needed to write this instead? Normally I try to make my first fic in a fandom meaningful, but… I’m a simple woman with simple tastes. As for when this takes place in canon, who cares? Tim’s hero name is Red Heron because I think it’s funny (like Red Herring). Chris Kent is around. Jon and Damian are kids. Young Justice is an informal team operating out of Titans Tower, I guess. Duke, Damian, and Cass appear very briefly, but I care them. I wanted to tag.

It starts with Bart. Kon _loves_ his buddy, but he’ll be honest: Bart can be annoying. So at first, he doesn’t pay much attention to the obnoxious buzzing sound. But when it starts at 10:00 and goes on for six hours without more than five minutes for a food break, Kon thinks he’s allowed to be a little annoyed. He leaves his room in Titans Tower (abandoning the essay that is definitely not just the title page) and walks down the hall, stopping at Raven’s room for half a second.

(“Is that—?” he asks, and Raven hushes him: “It’s only a form of music.”)

“Bart,” he says when he opens the door to his friend’s room. Bart is sprawled across the bed, still in costume, with his arms shoved in the sleeves of a red Keystone City University hoodie, mouth around a short yellow piece of plastic. He looks up with his big golden eyes, hair still a little greasy from their last battle. _“What_ are you doing?”

Bart reaches to pull the plastic from his mouth and twirls it around his finger. “Playing a kazoo. It’s kind of addictive.” He slips the kazoo back between his lips and blows again. The shrill shriek echoes through Kon’s eardrums. He wants to die.

“Can you… stop?” he asks.

Bart blinks. “It’s just a kazoo. It’s not that bad?”

“I’m trying to do homework,” Kon says. He sees Bart sit up and adds, “Look, as awesome as it would be for you to do my homework for me, I’d actually rather you stop blowing that thing.”

For half a second, Kon thinks he will. The kazoo hangs limply from his mouth. And then he blows with the force of a thousand plastic chickens, and the cacophony echoes through the Tower. Kon knows Bart’s not trying to be annoying, but if that’s what’s caught his attention today, there is absolutely no way Kon can spend one more second in the tower. He packs up his belongings and heads to Ma and Pa’s farm, thankful for the tranquility of Smallville. When Bart gets over his newest obsession, Kon is going to throw the kazoo in the trash and buy him something less obnoxious. Like a tuba. Or a clarinet.

* * *

“Hey, Cass, you got time to go over that project?” Kon asks as he busts into their shared apartment in Metropolis a week later. One might think it weird to share an apartment with one’s ex-girlfriend, and one would be right. But Cassie is also one of his best friends, and considering how hard it is for a public superhero to find a roommate and a private superhero to find a discreet living space, they both decided it would be easiest to stick together for their tenure at MSU.

Cassie is bundled up neatly in the blankets (her special starry Troia blanket bunched under her neck), her laptop on her thighs. A silver kazoo hangs from her lips, and she hums a horrid note when she looks up at him. Kon winces.

“What project?” she asks without removing the kazoo, so the words buzz through the tube. Kon is already considering crawling back out the window, but he has a C+ in Modern Leisure in Culture in what was supposed to be a bullshit class, so he needs her help badly.

So Kon forces himself inside and shuts the window and blinds before he sheds his leather jacket onto the ratty recliner they nabbed from the street corner. (Tim had offered to furnish their apartment, but Kon genuinely worries that Bruce will think he’s using Tim if he doesn’t do everything he can to live on his own.) “The project that’s due on Monday?” he reminds. “I want to finish it now so we don’t turn another assignment in late.”

“I never turn assignments in late. _You_ are just lazy,” Cassie says and snuggles a little more into her blankets. Kon shoots her a look before grabbing his laptop from his Superfamily laptop case—it’s awesome: they had a picture of the whole family, even Chris, whose face had turned pink when he’d seen it.

“Whatever. Let’s just get it done.” Kon saddles himself on the couch next to her as he pulls up the document. Cassie hums. The kazoo thrums. Kon groans.

Cassie’s hair falls in her face. “What?”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?” she clarifies.

“What’s wrong?” Kon repeats. “Dude, do you even _hear_ that thing? It’s so…”

Cassie blinks. “The kazoo?”

“Yes! The kazoo! I’ve never heard anything worse in my life.” Kon could lament for hours, but he feels kind of dumb with the way Cassie levels her eyes on him.

“It’s just a kazoo,” she says. “I’m not saying it’s a symphony or anything, but—”

“Cassie, the sound is worse than a knife up my ass.”

Cassie snorts. “How would you know what a knife up your ass feels like?”

“You don’t know what my sex life is like,” he retorts.

Cassie’s lips quirk, her freckled cheeks bright. “Actually—”

“Anyway—” Kon clears his throat. “The assignment.”

Thankfully, Cassie does pull the kazoo out of her mouth and set it on the coffee table for the duration of their work. Kon almost forgets about it until they’ve both shut their laptops and flopped into a cuddle pile in relief. Underneath him, Cassie’s arm squirms to the table where she yanks kazoo into her eager fingers. When the kazoo is back in her mouth, the sound reaches Kon’s ears that much quicker.

_“Cassandra Sandsmark, if you don’t put that kazoo up—”_

The kazoo rumbles. Cassie giggles. “Sorry, but it’s just… hard to resist.” She stares at the kazoo longingly, with a strangely obsessive look Kon usually sees on Bart. They stare at each other for a long moment.

Kon spends the night on the floor of Tim’s apartment in Gotham. Cassie didn’t kick him out, per se, but he can’t take a night with a kazoo fiend. Thankfully, Tim is out with the family, and he won’t be mad if Kon’s there anyway. 

But he’s starting to think there’s something weird about the kazoos.

* * *

Tim is home when Kon wakes up. He looks cutely ruffled in Red Heron tights and one of Kon’s old Superboy t-shirts. (Kon may have outgrown them, but Tim didn’t, even if he has filled out a little since seventeen.) Kon eyes his legs, appreciative of how Tim slings them on top of his desk when he works. It’s the little things.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Tim says when he realizes Kon is lingering by the door. He spins around, pulling his legs to his chest. “What are you doing in Gotham? Did you let Bruce know you were coming?”

“Uh.”

Tim quirks his lips. Kon falls a little more in love. He’s got a really, really great boyfriend, okay? “It’s cool. I told him when I came home.”

Kon winces anyway. Not the best way to make a good impression on his maybe future father-in-law, but it’s too late now anyway. “Thanks. I’m sorry, but I had to get out of the apartment. Cassie will not stop playing the kazoo.”

Tim furrows his brow, not quite holding back an incredulous laugh. Kon notices belatedly that there’s a red kazoo on his desk. “She’s driving you nuts by playing the kazoo?” he asks. To his credit, he tries to ask seriously, but he still sounds like he wants to crack up.

“It’s not just her. Bart too. And now you. What’s with all the kazoos?”

Tim shrugs. “Lexcorp started giving them away with any purchase,” he explains. He sips a Cherry Lime Zesti Uploaded (his new favorite, a horrific energy drink-soda combo that Kon is sure is fueling Tim’s body like battery acid) and turns back to his computer screen. “B asked me to check them out, but they’re just kazoos. It’s some weird, nouveau marketing campaign that may backfire. Why he wants his company to be associated with kazoos,” he huffs, flipping back and forth between his email and spreadsheets.

That’s it.

“That’s it,” Kon says, slamming his fist against his palm. He curls his legs beneath him and hovers to the left of Tim’s hair so he can watch the cute twitch of his nose as he works. “Tim, you’re a genius. Obviously, this kazoo thing is an evil plot by Luthor to take over the world—”

“Literally just told you it wasn’t,” Tim says.

“—and he’s trying to mind control the population into playing the kazoo and, uh—”

“And what?” Tim prompts. He tilts his head to the side. Kon is distracted by his sharp eyes and smooth skin. “Kon?”

“Oh, uh… evil, Luthor things, obviously,” Kon says. He swings his legs behind him and wraps his arms around Tim’s neck. “You know, you look really cute post-patrol, pre-sleep. You think—?”

“Hang on,” Tim says as he jerks away. Kon pulls back and lets him reach for his keyboard. (Tam Fox is not a woman he wants to cross, so if his boyfriend needs to do business-y things, it’s cool.) When Tim finishes, they’re going to head straight to bed, and—The kazoo honks. Tim’s lips are pressed tight as he tries not to drop it while he laughs.

Kon is definitely not putting out.

* * *

By that point, _everyone_ has a Lexcorp kazoo, including Damian, which Kon finds out when he calls Tim before Sunday night dinner and gets treated to Damian Wayne’s Ode to Cheese Wizard when he yanks the phone away from his brother. Oddly enough, the kazoo does not sound better through a speaker. Kon can’t take anymore, so when Cassie and Bart start a kazoo jamboree in her bedroom, he decides it’s a _perfect_ night to visit his dad and stepmom up in Hamilton.

Thankfully, the Lane-Kent house seems to be completely kazoo-free. 

“Jonno is still finishing his chores. Chris is up in his room doing homework,” Clark says in front of the stove, apron tied neatly behind his back. Sometimes the domesticity still makes Kon’s stomach twist. Lois is awesome and all, but he feels jealous Jon and Chris get this perfect childhood and he didn’t. Not that he thinks being raised by Lex and Clark would have been better. Kon has a horrible vision of Lex walking in the door and calling, “Honey, I’m home!” before smacking Clark’s ass. He shakes it off as quickly as he can.

“Anything I can do to help?” Kon asks, which is something Ma and Pa drilled into him. He’s very thankful his grandparents provided a warm and loving home for him. He shouldn’t wish for a better childhood. 

“Set the table? And if you have time, go up and remind Lo we’ll be eating soon,” Clark says.

Kon can do that. He sets five plates and heads upstairs to fetch Lois for dinner, taking a quick detour to ruffle his middle brother’s hair. At 6:30 on the dot, they’re all seated at the table, shoveling rice into their mouths.

“So do you guys get news out here?” Kon asks when he puts his fork down.

“No, Conner, I make up whatever I think sounds good and hope that it’s relevant by the time it makes it to the Big Apricot by good ol’ snail mail,” Lois says.

“Okay, dumb question,” Kon acknowledges.

“Really dumb,” Chris snorts. His little brother has become something of a little shit in his teenage years. Even ten-year-old Jon giggles through a mouthful of rice.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Kon drawls, “I was just wondering if you know anything about the kazoos.”

“Kazoos?” Clark raises a brow. Chris and Jon both make a face.

“The Lexcorp kazoos they’re handing out to everyone,” he explains.

“Oh, those,” Lois says. She tucks her hair behind her ear and reaches behind her. “I got one when I bought a new phone case. I thought Jon might get a kick out of it, but—” She hums against the kazoo. To Kon’s relief, he’s not the only one who groans.

“Moooom!” Jon slumps forward, nose scrunched, hands covering his ears.

“Mom, no.” Chris tugs his blue hood as tightly around his head as he can.

“Honey, please stop,” Clark says, very nicely, which Kon thinks means he’s actually very annoyed. Even Krypto whimpers underneath the table.

“They all hate it,” Lois shrugs. “You too, huh, kid?”

“It’s literally the most awful sound I’ve ever heard,” Kon says.

“That’s dramatic.”

Chris rocks back, his chair creaking against the hardwood floor. “I agree,” he says. “It’s bad enough at school, but at least the teachers made a no-kazooing in class rule.”

“Mr. Turner wants to do a kazoo song at our next school show,” Jon says miserably. He tears off a piece of his pork steak and shuffles it to Krypto under the table.

“Seriously, Luthor must be mind-controlling everyone with these kazoos,” Kon says. He expects his dad and brothers to rally behind him. Instead, the whole table stares. 

“They’re just kazoos,” Clark says. He serves himself another helping of rice.

“They are _not_ just kazoos! They’re the bane of my existence! You all agree!” Kon defends.

Clark makes a reluctant expression. “They’re bad, but it’s not an evil plot. It’s just… that kazoos hit a frequency that’s particularly annoying to Kryptonian ears.”

“You mean… kazoos are more annoying to us. Because we can hear good.”

“Not exactly,” Chris says, prepared to show off his awesome Kryptonian knowledge in a way that makes Kon want to shove his little brother’s face into the peas. “It’s a frequency that resonates with an ossicle only in Kryptonian ears, designed to—”

“Chris, I don’t care,” Kon says.

“Conner, shut up,” Chris says.

“Jon, would you like to have some dessert? Sure, I would,” Jon says and reaches for the pie.

Lois smacks his hand. “Nice try. Finish your food.”

Kon wishes he were an only child.

* * *

The Wayne family figured out that they can make him leave when he’s visiting Tim by playing, and they’ve taken to using their power like tyrants. Even Duke, who is supposed to be the _good_ one.

“Sorry, man,” Duke shrugs as he lines up with Cass and Damian. “But this is funny.” The three of them start a weirdly accurate version of the Star Wars theme song that Kon would appreciate if he weren’t flying out the window and heading across the river to the LexCorp tower. (Tim notably doesn’t stop his siblings, which Kon is a little mad about. Kon’s wearing his good jeans, dark wash, with holes in just the right spots, and a shirt that is definitely tight enough to show off his pecs. And the leather jacket! Tim loves the jacket!) His usual window is open (probably because Mercy saw him coming), and he flops into a bright orange chair, clearly not designed to be welcoming.

“Please inform my father I have arrived,” Kon says dramatically.

Mercy eyes him and turns back to her paperwork. 

“You already told him I was coming, didn’t you?”

She doesn’t answer, but ten minutes later, Lex walks into the office. He’s wearing the most hideous green check blazer with a clashing violet tie, but Kon isn’t about to tell him that. Maybe he’ll buy him a particularly passive-aggressive Father’s Day present, but that’s it.

“Conner, would it be so hard to make an appointment if you want to see me? I’m a very busy ma—”

“What’s the deal with the kazoos?” Kon demands. He floats out of his chair and follows Lex into the next room. “What are you trying to do? Because I can’t take it anymore. You’ve gotta stop.”

“Ah, yes, the kazoos,” Lex drawls. He takes a seat and slams a stack of papers against the desk to straighten them. Kon is 90% sure he’s just doing that to look busy. “Quite a brilliant marketing strategy, if I may say so. Everyone knows the name of LexCorp—”

“Like they didn’t already?”

“—and is reminded whenever they see our lovely little kazoos.”

“Look, if you don’t stop handing them out, I _am_ going to tear a hole in the fabric of the universe until I find someone who can put me out of my misery,” Kon demands. He drops himself in the chair on the other side of the desk, one leg slung over the arm. Lex grimaces but doesn’t complain. Win.

“Conner, have you ever noticed that you only come to visit when you want something?” Lex asks.

Kon blinks. “Huh?”

Lex pinches the bridge of his nose. “I should have allocated more of my genetic material to you. For your mind, at least,” he laments. “Conner, you are a Luthor, and as such, it’s only right that you—”

“You want me to visit you more often?” Kon asks.

“All I’m saying is that it shouldn’t take an influx of kazoos into the market for you to visit your father.”

Kon chokes. “I don’t believe it,” he gasps, slamming his hand against his knee. “This was a giant ploy to get me to visit?”

“I didn’t say that,” Lex insists. His bald head isn’t shiny. Kon wonders if he designed specific lights to avoid making his head blinding. “But it certainly isn’t _my_ fault that Kryptonians are sensitive to the sounds of kazoos.”

“You started a ploy to get me to visit you,” Kon says. He slumps back in the chair. “This is bonkers. I have a _phone_ —”

“Shall I pencil you in for Friday evenings?” Lex asks.

“Fridays are dinner at Dad’s,” Kon huffs. “And Sundays are—” He bites his tongue. He’s fairly sure Lex doesn’t know he’s dating Tim.

“Saturday then,” Lex says. “Our first topic of discussion can be which heirs you should target. You are a Luthor, and—”

Huh. Maybe Kon can still win this.

* * *

It takes two weeks, where Kon notably goes to dinner with a different family every day of the weekend, but the LexCorp kazoos start to fail.

“They’re cheap plastic,” Tim says when Kon points it out. They’re tangled in Kon’s bed at the tower, feet hooked around calves. His breath tickles Kon’s neck. Kon is in love. “I know you said Lex confirmed that it was a thing, but bro, they’re just still kazoos.”

“You can’t call me bro when I kiss you,” Kon says.

“I put the bro in bromance,” Tim replies as he tugs Kon closer to kiss him. He looks cute like this, even if he is wearing a pair of Cassie’s old Wonder Girl leggings and Bart’s KCU hoodie.

“Uh-huh,” Kon says. He leans closer and puckers his lips. He waits until Tim closes his eyes to shoot a bit of heat vision at the kazoo by his bed. Precautions never hurt.


End file.
